A top chess master in South Texas, and a chess teacher of national caliber who started the first chess school in the U.S., has left us. James Joseph Gallagher died May 10 of an apparent heart attack in his San Antonio apartment. He was 46.

His impact on the lives of hundreds of children was aptly summed up by his father in the Express-News: “Few chess masters became so involved in the lives of their students; he was a champion of and for the children.”

Highlights of his tournament career include tying for first in the Southwest Open (1990), sharing in the Texas state championship title (1989), and winning the San Antonio city championship four times (1987, 1991, 1992, 1993), in each case with clear first.

He was an avid team player, and six times he shared in the Texas team championship title. He took pleasure in creating colorful names for his teams, such as “Fleet Wood Sac,” “Texas Pawn Chain Massacre,” and in the wake of the 2000 election, “Dimpled Chads.”

A memorial gathering was held May 18 at Lions Field, drawing 87 people – friends, former chess students and their parents, Jim’s father, and his sisters Cathie and Renee. Many shared their stories at the podium that afternoon.

Sid Pickard, a chess book publisher in Dallas, e-mailed this remembrance:

I first met Jim Gallagher in 1981, at the Memphis Chess Club. Friendly and outgoing, Jim soon became a regular fixture at my apartment, where we passed countless hours in combat at chess. Often the rising sun would find us still testing whatever variation captured our attention at the moment. All told, I suppose we played over a thousand blitz games together. The point is that I was able to closely observe Jim under many conditions, and to note those sterling qualities he possessed in abundance. As a chess player Jim had all the traits we might expect of a master – discipline, mental toughness, patience, optimism, endurance, intellectual honesty, and a host of others. In fact, Jim became a chess master long before his rating proved the case.

After he reached his initial goal of 2200, about 18 months before I did, Jim liked to tease me that I had “pounded” him to the master title . . . while he had merely pounded me! Kidding aside, it was during those months that I saw another fine aspect of Jim's personality. Every day would bring some word of encouragement, or positive advice, or helpful comment; he cheered me on, and, when I finally reached 2200 myself, nobody was happier for me than Jim Gallagher. He had a truly generous spirit.

Jim attended my wedding in 1985, and my wife and I honeymooned in Las Vegas – with Jim at the National Open! After the tournament Jim gave us a casino chip of large denomination as a wedding present, and the three of us had some serious fun for a couple of days. We left Jim, who was riding a lucky streak at the poker tables, and went on to San Francisco before returning home to Memphis. About a month later my new wife and I could no longer resist the lure of bright lights, so we returned to Las Vegas for a long weekend. And there we found Jim Gallagher, still playing poker, and enjoying the life of a professional gambler with casino “comps” and free drinks. By now he prided himself on being able to spot easy marks among the “tourists.” A few days later my wife and I went home to Memphis, and about six weeks later Jim arrived back in town. He said that the gambler’s life was okay for a while, but it was time to get back to work. Later I discovered that some “tourist” had absorbed Jim’s bankroll at the poker table, and that a stop at the Western Union office was needed for his return air fare.

There are many great Jim Gallagher stories, more than time allows to tell them. Someone has only to mention “Butt outsky, Budinsky!” to make me laugh. Or his incredulous “Oh, really?” when one luckless opponent resigned much, much too late. And I remember watching Jim at a tournament game, suffering in a terrible position. When his opponent left the room, Jim took the opportunity to throw his head back and sing a full-volume chorus of the Beatles’ “I’m a Loser” in the tournament hall.

Sorry Jim, you were wrong. You were never anything remotely like a loser. What you were was an outstanding friend, and I will miss you. I will miss Jim Gallagher very much.

Jim’s ashes were flown to Ohio to be with his mother’s.

I think Jim identified with the hulking barbarian warrior on his trademark Molly Hatchet shirt that he liked to wear to chess tournaments for good luck. (“Hell yeah!” it read.) Jim loved combat on the board, on the football field, and in lively debate about anything you could name.

Before Jim was a chess master he occasionally hustled pool. Yet he was honorable: When he came to San Antonio in 1987 he got hustled out of $300 by a future chess student who bet he could win using a broomstick. It took years, but Jim finally paid off the debt.

His greatest payment to those who knew him was how he shared his love of chess with the world. He became a fulltime chess teacher soon after coming to San Antonio. He continued what Pandolfini and Weeramantry had begun in New York, setting a high standard of excellence in hs teaching.

He was eloquent, passionate, and spontaneous. He was a marvellous jokesmith and storyteller. A natural showman, he even brought chess to local TV programming. With help from a chess student who worked at Paragon cable, Jim produced a series of shows called Chess Moves, with a polish rarely seen in public access. People tuned in to watch, and they came to his chess school.

San Antonio businessman Vernon Friesenhahn helped Jim get set up in 1991 with a storefont in the heart of the old silk-stocking neighborhood of Alamo Heights. Inside, oversize posters of chess greats looked down from the walls. GM Yasser Seirawan was invited to the grand opening, and he put on a chess show for all of San Antonio to see, with news cameras rolling. The school was off to a flying start . . . like one of the pre-Wright brothers planes, at it turned out.

After three years of operating at a loss, Jim lost his patronage and moved shop uptown to a series of locations with lower rent. The last one was ideally situated, near the Medical Center and Loop 410. But the San Antonio Chess Studio was an economic no-starter, and he fell back on teaching after-school and summer programs geared to elementary and middle school students.

Gallagher could teach at the college level, if there was a course offering in chess. He had a fast, agile yet profound mind. In college he had majored in philosophy, and he could discuss relativity or basketball with equal aplomb.

He had the personal touch, getting to know each student by name and chess style. It seemed that he had something unique to say for each child when he passed out prizes, down to the last place Honorable Mention.

When Jim stated an opinion, he left no doubt about where he stood. He possessed great personal charm, but had little use for diplomacy, or indeed anything that smacked of insincerity or hypocrisy.

His quarrels were many and famous. Jim lived up to his Irish inheritance, not only in his charm and eloquence but in his temper. He did not suffer fools gladly; and woe to anyone he believed was cheating. Although he could at times be blinded by the blaze of his zeal, his sincerity and fundamental honesty shone through. He always tried to fight the good fight.

Here are some of his best.

“Just Like the Old Masters”

That is how Gallagher titled this game when it appeared in Texas Knights almost 15 years ago. In an old-fashioned king hunt reminiscent of Morphy vs. Amateur, Gallagher sacrifices first a bishop, then a rook to draw his quarry out into the open.

Sid Pickard writes: “The following game is an interesting fight, complete with
sudden strokes and oversights. What makes the game memorable for me, however,
is the extended “debate” Jim and I carried on for 2-3 days afterwards.
Before the advent of Fritz, we simply tested moves: Gallagher would suggest a try,
and I would offer a counter. These notes were found among my papers recently.

Jim’s sister Renee faces major surgery without the benefit of medical insurance. The family requests that any contributions on behalf of Jim be made to “Renee’s Surgery Fund” payble at any branch of Bank of America, account # 004799474493; or send a check to 5910 Deer Horn Dr. San Antonio, TX 78238.

Soon after moving to San Antonio in 1987, he became a full-time chess teacher. He taught after-school chess classes at various private schools over the years.

In the spring of 1991 two of his students, a brother and sister, became state scholastic champions in their divisions. That May, with financial backing from their father, Gallagher opened the first chess school in the nation, the San Antonio Chess School. He brought in three-time U.S. Champion Yasser Seirawan for the grand opening and a return visit in 1992, as well as the legendary Russian grandmaster David Bronstein. To help promote the school, Gallagher produced a series of public access television shows named “Chess Moves.”

He struggled to turn a profit at the Alamo Heights location, but after three years he was unable to keep the support of his principal patron. Undaunted, Gallagher moved the operation north with the new name of San Antonio Chess Studio. He changed location twice more before throwing in the towel in the fall of 2000. He continued teaching a full schedule of after-school programs and chess camps.

Highlights of his tournament career include tying for first in the Southwest Open (1990), sharing the Texas state championship title (1989), and winning the San Antonio city championship four times (1987, 1991, 1992, 1993), in each case with clear first.

He was an avid team player, and six times he shared in the Texas team championship title. He took pleasure in creating colorful names for his teams, such as “Fleet Wood Sac,” “Texas Pawn Chain Massacre,” and in the wake of the contested 2000 election, “Dimpled Chads.”

His greatest rewards came from seeing his students’ progress, and he coached many city and regional scholastic chess champions. Five of his students brought back state titles.

Jim Gallagher was one of the best teachers I have ever known. He had a way with a story or a joke, and was one of those people who can honorably improve on reality in the telling of events. He kept track of his students’ names and individual chess styles, and had something supportive and unique to say for every student in his class (or so it seemed) when he passed out a trophy or a ribbon, even for last place.

When Jim stated an opinion, he left no doubt about where he stood. He possessed great personal charm, but had little use for diplomacy, or indeed anything that smacked of insincerity or hypocrisy. He liked to play the part of the skeptic regarding anything beyond the mainstream of science, and he enjoyed a lively debate. Mostly he debated on the chess board, a realm where (in the words of one world champion) “lies and hypocrisy do not survive long.”
- Selby Anderson (editor of Texas Knights and former Texas Chess Association president)

But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays. - The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam